Consider Adrien
by LeDiz
Summary: Getting to know Adrien is not an impatient man's game, but his friends feel they are up to the task. One-shots and fragments of various people navigating the mess that is Adrien Agreste. Ch. 7: He's not a friend, but Theo finds himself confronted with messy hair and green eyes, and a dichotomy his artist's side can't ignore.
1. Nino: Riddle me this

_**Consider Adrien**_

 **Nino: Riddle me this**

* * *

Getting to know Adrien was not an impatient man's game.

It had seemed easy at first. Adrien was earnest and kind, and he seemed honest to a fault. But that was the first hurdle: Adrien was a lying liar that lied and he lied _well_. To the point that even now, months after Nino had first seen Adrien lie to protect Chloe (of all people!), he still couldn't tell when he was dealing with the real Adrien.

For all the world to see, Adrien was perfect. He was very pretty. He was crazy smart. He knew music, he fenced, he spoke different languages, he was humble and generous and he couldn't do a damn thing wrong. Because he knew how to play everyone. He had smiles for every situation. Charming conversation for any occasion. Polite witticisms to make elderly men chortle and innocent questions to earn the adoration of every woman over the age of twenty.

None of it was real.

Nino figured that out on the first day, when he saw Marinette chew Adrien out and watched the perfect model sink into the shoulders of a very lonely kid.

The problem was that Adrien Agreste was a valuable commodity, and he was willing to sell every inch of himself for a hint of affection. Ideally his father's, but pretty much anyone's would do the job. Hence the idiot's still ongoing friendship with Chloe.

It was stuff like that that made getting to know Adrien so hard. It sure made it annoying sometimes. Sometimes Nino wanted to punch Adrien in the face, and not just because he wanted to see the reaction. Sometimes, he wanted to turn around in class and ask Marinette what she was thinking, drooling over someone who actively tried to make people think he had all the depth of a teaspoon.

"Riddles have been an important literary device since the first stories, including myth and religion," Miss Bustier explained as she picked up her chalk. "It is by examining the play of logic, symbolism, and language that we, as readers of literature, are forced to engage."

Nino drummed his pen between his fingers and desk, watching Adrien quietly copy down notes. Today was one of those days Nino found himself mildly annoyed by his best friend. He'd spent all of lunch on a shoot and was still wearing the makeup, making him look even more flawless than usual. He tried to avoid talking in class, all the better to pay attention, so he had barely said two words to Nino all day. He'd be running off to a Chinese class after school, too. And he did homework after that, no matter how much Nino tried to convince him to slack off, and then he'd probably go to bed because heaven forbid he risk his father's wrath with midnight Skype calls or gaming sessions. Perfect little prince in his perfect little tower.

"But some riddles are, of course, not meant to be solved. They are nothing more than plays on language, meant to distract and derail. Lewis Carroll, for example, was fond of nonsensical riddles," Bustier continued. "But it should be noted that his most famous nonsense riddle did indeed have an answer in the end. Can anyone tell me what the riddle was?"

Surprisingly, it was Juleka to raise her hand. "Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

"That's right. So class, why _is_ a raven like a writing desk? Can anyone give me the answer?"

Silence greeted her. In the end, Alya gave it the old college try.

"They both have quills?"

"Often quoted, not correct. The answer Carroll eventually gave was 'Because it can produce a few notes, though they are very flat, and it is never put with the wrong end in front'. To explain the second half of that—" She paused to write it on the board in English. Most of them stared blankly, their written English still only passable, but Nino couldn't help but notice Adrien's lips twitching. He even lifted a hand to hide a smile. "—on the original printing, Carroll wrote the word 'never' as 'N-E-V-A-R'."

Again, silence. Only Adrien seemed to get it, and it was only because Nino had learned to look for it that he noticed his friend closing his eyes in silent laughter.

"Never? Usually spelt N-E-V-E-R? Spelt as raven backwards? Really? I'm so glad to see all your English classes are sinking in. Let's move on."

Adrien swallowed and looked back down at his tablet. Nino looked up at the board, thought over the whole thing, and realised.

It was a pun. It was a big, massive, horrible pun…

And Adrien loved it.

"Oh, my god!" Nino announced after class, the second Chloe and Sabrina were out of the room. "I have finally found Adrien Agreste's weakness! Girls, step back, I am about to reveal something that will make the hottest guy in school completely unattractive."

Adrien blinked at him in polite amusement, while everyone else stared. Nino gave a dramatic twirl and pointed at his friend's face. "You like puns!"

"Pardon?" he asked, and Nino stepped up close to him, finger still raised.

"I wondered," he began, "why the baseball was getting bigger. Then it hit me."

Everyone stared. A flicker of amusement shone through Adrien's eyes.

"I'm reading a book about anti-gravity," he continued. "It's impossible to put down."

Adrien's lips twitched, while a few people caught on and groaned.

"Did you hear about the guy whose whole left side was cut off? He's alright now."

Adrien's head bowed forward, his shoulders rising. Alya grinned and jumped in. "I wasn't originally going to get a brain transplant, but I changed my mind!"

It finally happened. Adrien hunched down with a breath that was very, nearly, almost a snort of laughter. Nino grinned. "I used to be a banker, but I lost interest!"

"I'd tell you a chemistry joke," Max piped up, "but I probably wouldn't get a reaction."

Adrien slapped a hand to his mouth, shoulders shaking.

"A friend of mine tried to annoy me with bird puns," was Alya's next attempt. "Then I realised toucan play at that game."

"I can't believe I got fired from the calendar factory," it was Kim's turn. "All I did was take a day off!"

Adrien dropped his head onto the desk. He still wasn't making a lot of noise, but he had clearly lost it.

"Ooh! Ooh!" Rose threw her hand in the air, waving it excitedly. "I have one! Why was Cinderella thrown off the basketball team?"

"Why, Rose?" they all chorused, getting in on the game.

"Because she ran away from the ball!"

They all laughed at that – she was just so proud of it. Max tried again. "I wanna make a joke about sodium, but Na…!"

Only a few of them got that. Judging from the way Adrien slapped the table, he was one of them.

"I – I – I –" Marinette floundered but eventually burst out, "I hate insect puns! They really bug me!"

And that, of all things, was what finally broke Adrien's silence. It was short, it was soft, but it was an audible laugh. He even lifted his head, showing off a broad, amazing smile that made him look nothing like the photos across Paris as he turned to look at her. "Surely you mean they _Lady_ bug you? This is Paris, after all."

Nino could practically see her brain check out, but he didn't care. That had been a laugh, and that was a smile. A real smile, in public. Adrien was actually having fun.

"You have _cat_ to be _kitten_ me," Alya replied for her. "After all that work, that's the best you can _claw_ back with?"

Adrien looked delighted, and like he had a comeback, but stopped himself almost immediately. The reason quickly became clear though, as he took out his still vibrating phone and looked at it.

You could actually see his shoulders slump, and he stuffed the phone back in his pocket before looking at Nino. "I've got Chinese. They're waiting for me."

Nino grimaced, but Adrien reached out and punched his shoulder with a smile, then looked up and around at the rest of the class. For a second, it almost looked like he would say something Marinette-ish, about how great they all were and how he was grateful to all of them. But instead, he just grinned and said, "I need to hit the road. Hope none of you asphalt me for leaving so soon."

They all groaned and complained, Alix even throwing her tablet pen at him, but he caught it with a laugh that was almost smug. Everyone smiled when he threw it back, obviously getting a kick out of seeing Adrien act so… human.

He was back to normal the next day, perfect and untouchable Adrien Agreste. But they had a secret weapon now, and Nino pulled it out at every opportunity.

It was always worthwhile to see Adrien lose it over a cat pun.

* * *

 _Help help, I've fallen into Miraculous Ladybug and it's not even released in my country yet! Also, my family loves puns and I don't. To each their own._


	2. Chloe: Plan it out

_**Consider Adrien**_

 **Chloe: Plan it out**

* * *

Before Cat Noir and his incompetence had ruined felines for her forever, Adrien had been in her phone as 'Pussy', because that was how they'd met. The other meaning was implied but not admitted, no matter how many times he raised his eyebrow at her.

It had been a stupid show for kids. A cartoon cat called Minnow Pussy wanted to get to the fish pond, but his way was always blocked by simple spelling and maths puzzles. Live action kids would follow him down the path in order to do the puzzles for him, because they _apparently_ liked to do that sort of thing. Her father had gotten her on six episodes of the third season, and Adrien's mother had him doing it too.

All she really remembered from the whole thing was reciting lines to a green ball on a green stage, and Adrien sharing his juice with her.

They filmed the whole season in like two weeks, so the entire cast was on set at the same time. By the end of the first day, they were all tired and thirsty, and she finished her juice first. She would have gotten up to get more from the caterers, but she was tired and it was so _far_. She'd felt whining about it was the better option.

Adrien had been sitting with the boys on the other side of the circle of kids, but when she complained, he got up and walked over to give her his juice. "I'm not thirsty," he'd lied. He'd had a great smile, even back then.

It was a joke between them now. She'd take his drinks, because he wasn't thirsty. He'd pretend to be annoyed, that little crease appearing between his beautiful brows, but he wouldn't say anything. It was the game, after all.

Now, as her phone buzzed with a text message, he was just 'Adrien' with a little heart on either side. She raised an eyebrow at his name as she unlocked her phone.

Once upon a time, she would have had to start any text message conversations between them, because he never dared to bother her. She wasn't sure how she felt about him starting this one.

' _Did it go okay?_ '

She stared at the words, her thumb hovering over the reply box.

The school had brought in a psychologist for their class to talk to, since they had all been targeted either by akuma directly, or (in the case of Adrien and Marinette) had an akuma be unleashed because of them (or their fathers). Apparently they'd all been traumatised by the experience and needed to talk it out.

' _Fine_ ' she texted back. Then added, ' _She tried to tell me i dress up as ladybug because i feel guilty for causing so many of my friends to get akumatised_ '.

He responded almost immediately. ' _Do you feel guilty?_ '

Her eyebrow twitched. Of course he was accusing her. She never should have helped him get into school. It had seemed so romantic when he'd first told her about his plan. She'd imagined such sweet things – notes passed in class, sitting curled up together in the library, a clandestine meeting behind the lockers to confess their love…

Instead, Adrien was being corrupted by those parasitic 'friends' of his into thinking she was the _bad guy_.

She still wasn't sure how she was going to fix it.

' _You shouldn't,_ ' Adrien added before she could think of an answer. ' _It's not your fault. Hawkmoth deserves all the blame._ '

Oh. She smiled, rolling onto her stomach instead. There was the pussy she knew and loved. About time he showed up again.

It was frustrating how rarely he showed himself these days. She'd put a lot of work into him over the years, prodding and moulding, but lately it was like none of it mattered. He was becoming so… Well, the only word she could think of was disobedient, but it wasn't like she'd actually _told_ him how he was supposed to act, so that wasn't right, it was just…

It wasn't what she'd _planned_.

' _When's your turn?_ ' she asked.

' _N's still in negotiations with the school. No way GA's son should be talking to a shrink._ '

She let out a breath and a nod. No future husband of hers, either.

She, on the other hand, had spoken to a counsellor before, so it was no big deal. They'd brought in a career counsellor the first year of middle school, since it wasn't unusual for kids at a prestigious school like theirs to come from wealthy, high achieving families. Most of them were already beginning to make the choices that would lead them into the rest of their lives.

The counsellor had discouraged that. He'd talked about making five year plans, rather than settling into a career right away. They were only young, he pointed out. Life was not set in stone.

She'd scoffed. She still did, on the rare occasions she thought about it.

She didn't believe in five year plans. She had a _twenty_ year plan. And it had been in motion for the better part of five years now, ever since the first time Adrien showed up at the hotel after his mother disappeared.

Back then, she hadn't realised he was gorgeous. But she quickly realised he was _ideal_.

The thing was, she knew she had a very limited time before her looks began to fail. When that happened, she would need three things: a career, a husband, and a pre-nup to make Beyonce drool with envy. The career was obvious—she was _made_ for politics—and the pre-nup could be handled with lawyers.

The husband would need careful work. Someone good looking, of course, because any politician needs arm candy. Someone with a flexible schedule, because they needed to be available to attend functions. And someone weak-willed, because she did not need that hassle in her life.

Before his mother vanished, Adrien hadn't even been on her radar. He was too wild, too invested in dreams and games. And the jokes! Ugh, she couldn't really remember any of them, but she remembered them being bad. Puns everywhere.

Then, one day, his mother didn't come home.

The next time she saw him, maybe six months later, he was pale, tired, and withdrawn. She'd asked what he wanted to do for the day. He'd shrugged and looked at the floor.

"I don't know, Chloe. Whatever you want to do."

She'd tested him with princess videos. Makeup. Dolls. He'd sat through it all in grateful silence, his hand tight in hers, and hugged her before he left. He'd been so clingy back then.

It was definitely something she could work with.

Staying Adrien's friend was easy. Gabriel didn't want him socialising with the wrong sorts of people, so he wasn't allowed to go out with friends from sports or talk to anyone on modelling shoots. But she already had his number. She'd text him when she knew he was on shoots, giving him someone to complain to about handsy photographers and horrible co-models. She'd invite him over to watch movies each and every weekend. She curl around his arm, giving him that human contact she knew he missed.

Honestly, she'd once thought as she watched Adrien have a conversation with his father over iPad, it was like Gabriel was trying to make it easy for her.

These days he cringed away from her hugs, his fingers twitching every time she so much as took his hand. No doubt it had something to do with Nino and that bakery bimbo Marinette. Probably Nino.

Ugh. _Nino_. She'd never had a lot of time for him (that fashion sense!), but this year she just wanted to strangle him. He was undoing so much of her good work! All that effort, all that moulding, and he was just chipping away at it!

She'd been doing so well. She had it down to an _art_. All it had taken was a very specific giggle.

"Video games, Adrien? You're gushing over a _video game_?"

He'd blushed and hitched his shoulders up around his ears. "It's fun."

"No, it's sad. I mean… surely you can think of something more productive to do with your time than stare at a screen all day."

He hadn't mentioned video games to her again. But _Nino_ had convinced him to compete in a full-fledged competition about them. So embarrassing! Yes, he'd given up his spot before anyone important could see him, but god, what if he hadn't? Her future husband, the future top model, known throughout Paris as a gaming nerd. She would have died. It might have been enough to akumatise her all over again.

' _Are you traumatised?_ ' she asked, and then followed it up with, ' _I dont feel traumatised by anything but that dress rose was wearing today_ '

When he didn't immediately respond, she looked back up over the conversation and realised he probably didn't know what she was talking about, and so clarified, ' _Especially not akuma_ '

He still took a while to answer, but this time it didn't really surprise her. Adrien was weird when it came to the akuma attacks. They definitely scared him, judging by the way he never talked about them and would make himself scarce whenever they started, but he always put on a brave face when they were actually happening. He was always trying to protect people, make them think there was nothing to be scared of. He would never admit to how much they worried him. But she knew him too well for that. She could tell he was terrified of being akumatised himself.

She wondered what he'd be like. Who would his supervillain self be?

' _They don't scare me that much._ ' He barely paused before adding, ' _Ladybug and Cat Noir always save the day._ '

She scoffed. ' _You mean Ladybug does. That cat is useless._ '

' _You don't like Cat Noir?_ '

' _Why would i?_ '

Okay, honestly, she didn't _dis_ like Cat Noir. He'd always given her a decent amount of respect, he seemed dedicated to the whole saving people thing, and if he'd had like, ten more kilos on him that suit could have been veeeeery nice. But mostly, he was just… around. And useless. Everything they knew about the whole superhero thing said he couldn't do anything without Ladybug. His power was basically limited to breaking stuff, and the thing he seemed to be best at was being thrown into walls.

Super impressive it was _not_.

Sadly, it wasn't that surprising Adrien liked him. Adrien liked everyone, and they were actually a lot alike.

Not so much anymore, of course, but Cat Noir reminded her a lot of what Adrien had been like before his mother left. Impulsive and playful, always with a lame joke and a half-smile, like he knew something you didn't. Cat Noir was a lot less _competent_ than Adrien had been as a kid, but they even had the same response to failure. When he'd been younger, if Adrien fell over, lost a game, or looked like an idiot, his response had always been 'well, that hurt. Next adventure?' Cat Noir was the same – it didn't matter how many times he got beat up or humiliated; he would always bounce back for another fight.

These days, Adrien didn't lose, fall, or look anything less than perfect. Not in public, anyway. Which was just one of the many reasons she loved him – you had to admire someone who accepted nothing less than the best.

She smirked and ignored the 'still typing' message to add a new one. ' _You're much better, pussy_ '

The 'still typing' message vanished, and it took a minute for him to start again. ' _You know I hate it when you call me that._ '

' _But it's what you are!_ ' she teased, and sent him several cat emoticons in a row, followed by a fish. Just for nostalgia's sake, she added the show's catchphrase, ' _Minnow pussy wants a fish! I can help him get that dish!_ '

She giggled at her own joke, but he didn't respond, and she quickly sent another message. ' _You should come over this weekend. There's a movie I want to watch_ '

She purposefully didn't tell him what it was, or ask what he wanted to do instead. It was a bit of a test. The conversation had been a nice reminder of how things were supposed to be between them, and she needed to make sure it hadn't just been a fluke.

' _My calendar's free between twelve and seven on Sunday. We could meet for lunch?_ '

She tilted her head. On the one hand, having a meal with Adrien was always nice, especially because all the celebrities in her father's restaurant would see her with him. On the other hand, that hadn't been what she asked.

' _No just the movie. Come over at 3_ '

She stared at her phone, waiting impatiently. If he said no, she was going to make Nino and Marinette's lives _miserable_.

' _Alright._ ' And then, ' _I'm being called to dinner. Talk to you tomorrow?_ '

She smiled, rolling her shoulders with deep satisfaction. ' _Of course you will. Love you pussy!_ '

' _Goodnight, Chloe._ '

She shrugged and tossed her phone away. He'd been a little short, but the point was he still did as told.

She could work with that.

* * *

 _I've noticed, in the French version, Ladybug calls Cat Noir 'kitty' quite a lot. However, 'pussy' does show up very, very occasionally. From my very lazy research on the subject, I have discovered it does translate in all its forms. But since these are all set in the English version, it's a moot point regardless. Chloe's a bitch and I love her._


	3. Alya: Getting connected

_**Consider Adrien**_

 **Alya: Getting connected**

* * *

For the record, Alya was not made of stone. She was flesh, blood, and hormones just like any other girl. She might not have been following high fashion or drooling over subway ads, but she was perfectly aware of Adrien Agreste and his gorgeous green eyes even before he showed up in their classroom.

He was a little thin for her taste, but those eyes with that hair? Unff. She wanted to lick him.

But meeting him in real life was a little intimidating.

Alya wasn't normally one to worry about what people thought of her, but having both a model _and_ Chloe Bourgeois in her class at the same time? Ugh. Chloe had a way of making you aware of your appearance, and the fact was his hips could were literally less than half the size of hers. In short, he made her feel fat. Fat, fat, fat.

And then, he turned out to be a nice guy. Like, super nice. She liked to think she was a good person and all, but in the two weeks she'd known him, she had yet to hear him say a single mean thing. Like, not even an unintentional mean thing. He had something nice to say about everyone. Even Sabrina, and the best thing Alya had to say about her was that she could put up with Chloe. She heard Adrien tell Nino that Sabrina was 'really hard-working and passionate'.

He made her feel like a super judgemental, horrible, nasty person.

Ugh.

But she totally got Marinette's crush, because seriously. Get the man a cape and a crown and you could call him Prince Charming. And she still wanted to lick him.

Or at least stalk him on social media, which turned out to be way harder than they thought it would be. She and Marinette devoted an entire weekend to trying to find him online, but there was nothing. An online CV and portfolio, some blogs devoted to him, and he naturally showed up on the Gabriel Designs social media feeds a lot, but for him personally?

Nada. Persona non grata.

So, intimidating or not, Monday morning gave her a mission and she was going to complete it.

She strode into the classroom, sighted her target, and took a deep breath to steel herself. She could do this.

"Hey, Adrien," she said brightly, slamming her hands onto his desk. He jumped like a cat, which calmed her nerves a little – at least he wasn't unflappable. "What's your Facebook ID? I can only find fan sites."

He blinked at her a few times, and a tiny smile started to spread over his lips. "You want to add me on Facebook?"

"Sure, I add all my classmates," she said. It was true – she even had Chloe. She noted Adrien's smile fading a little before it came back up, this time a tad more apologetic.

"I don't actually have Facebook. Didn't need one before," he said with a shrug.

"Snapchat then? Twitter? Instagram? Model like you has to have insta."

"Sorry," he said, one side of his mouth quirking up in a grin she wouldn't have called possible a month ago. The real Adrien was a lot shyer than the camera told. "I don't really do social media."

She frowned, fingers drumming against the desk. Either he was lying, or he was a troglodyte.

"So how does anyone get in contact with you?"

"My phone?" he suggested. "Or email? You know, one-on-one type communication?"

"Oh, my god, you really are a troglodyte."

He blushed, pulling back into the bench. "I – I don't know what that means."

If him being a cave-dwelling noob wasn't adorable enough, the blush sure was. It gave her the strength to move on.

"Well, then, I need your phone number. Simple as that," she said, and quickly unlocked her phone to pull up her contacts list. "You know, in case there's a fashion emergency and we need a world class model on speed dial."

He huffed out something that might have been a laugh. "I'm hardly world class."

"But I notice the fashion emergency didn't trip you up," she noted as she handed over her phone. "Does that mean you've encountered one before?"

"At least seven that I can think of," he said. "The most recent involved chewing gum and a hair dryer."

But he typed in his contact details, and even sent himself a text message so he had hers in return. "I hope you don't mind," he added as he handed her phone back and took out his own. "I can delete it if you don't want me to –"

"Psh, please, it's fine," she said, glancing over his newly filled contact information. Her eyebrow rose as she found an email address and Skype code as well. She hadn't even had to ask. She looked at him curiously. "You really don't have social media? Like, at all?"

"Ah… Father doesn't like the idea," he admitted. "And like I said, I didn't have friends to connect with before now."

She filed the 'father' thing away for future reference, more focussed on the impossibility of anyone surviving without a feed these days. "Screw friends, what about life? News? You know, stuff?"

"Um… websites? And it's not that hard to bookmark feeds you want to stay up to date with," he pointed out, smiling at her groan. "It really isn't."

"Nino," she said, pointing at the boy she'd so far ignored. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it: bring this boy into the new millennium. This is just sad."

"He's got like five gamer accounts," Nino replied lazily. "Good enough for me."

Her mind stuttered to a halt. She looked around again, taking in the perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect clothes, perfect boy. Surely she'd heard wrong. "You're a _gamer_?"

He blushed again, shoulders rising up near his ears, and Nino nodded. "Yeah. His gamer score on X-Box? Off the hook. Kicked my ass in Mecha Strike last night too."

She stared all the more. "Then how are you not on Twitter? This should not be possible!"

"I have RSS feeds," Adrien explained, but she put up a hand to block his nonsense.

"This is a travesty of the modern age. I am so doing a blog post about this. It's practically deprivation."

Adrien looked concerned until he caught sight of Nino's smirk, and seemed to realise it was funny. Then he grinned. "If you're that upset about it, I show up on the Gabriel Designs feeds a lot."

"Not for us, you troglodyte, for you!" she said, waving at him. "You're disconnected! I'm not even sure you count as a person if you're not online these days!"

He set his cheek on his fist. It was kind of amazing how he did it, so that it didn't smoosh up his face at all but instead made him look suave, sophisticated, and handsome. Her mouth almost ran dry before she remembered Marinette was the one with the massive crush, not her.

"I am online. I just don't shout my whole life from the rooftops on social media."

"No, you just plaster your face all over it instead," Nino commented, and Adrien's eyes shut in a silent chuckle.

Alya almost twitched, because seriously. The nice thing? The disconnected thing? The gamer thing? And now this. This expression right here. Forget licking him, Alya was going to lock him up in a cage and keep him as a pet. She was suddenly conflicted about hooking him up with Marinette, because any kids the two of them could have would be so cute it would be illegal. The world was not ready for that much cute.

She took a moment to consider it.

Oh, whatever, they had superheroes now, the world could deal.

"Okay, I've decided," she said, leaning over the desk. "I'm applying to write for the school blog, and you are going to be my first article."

"Huh?"

"Adrien Agreste: welcome to the real world!" she said, throwing her arm out to show them both the title. "A cutting expose on the disadvantages of home schooling on an impressionable youth! The real truth behind the seedy world of modelling, and how not even that could prepare you for the challenges of the classroom. Pretty slick, right?"

Adrien had lost his smile again to stare at her, while Nino was rolling his eyes. She took it as a yes.

"Great! We'll do the interview over email so you really have time to think about your answers," she said, putting her phone in her bag. "Thanks Adrien!"

She hurried up and around to her seat, ignoring the way both boys turned to keep staring at her. She was saved by Miss Bustier entering the room, quickly followed by Marinette almost falling over herself as she burst in as well, spluttering apologies for being late.

"Girl," she whispered as Marinette fell into the seat beside her, panting. "You are going to love me so hard."

Marinette just stared at her, blinking big blue eyes. "Huh?"

Seriously. The kids. They'd take over the world in seconds. Alya giggled and sat back in her seat, condemning the world to its adorable fate. This was going to be so great.

* * *

 _Behold my explanation for why Alya has Adrien's contact details! And apparently knows him well enough to use his skills for the greater good! Because I'm pretty sure Copycat happens long before Animan/Alya and Nino start dating and that's the only other reason I could think of for why she would have that information._


	4. Nathalie: Don't care

_**Consider Adrien**_

 **Nathalie: Don't care**

* * *

Working in the fashion industry, shame was a commodity no one had time for. Nathalie learned this in her first week as an intern, many years ago. She was just following a PA, juggling coffee and clipboards as they walked through a warehouse, and yet she still saw six women and two men in varying states of undress. To a middle class public school girl barely out of high school, it had been enough to turn her usual unflappable mask pink.

Since then, she had held full conversations about taxes with naked men, reduced people to tears while they changed, and given cutting feedback on everything about the female form, including nipple placement. They should point up, not down, and if you expect to make it in this industry, you had best learn to work that imperfection or get the hell out this casting call.

Adrien had been modelling since childhood, and so she wasn't all that surprised to discover he had little (if any) body shame. He was perfectly comfortable stripping to his underwear and thought nothing of it when people touched his chest, back, or even thighs. He was a model. He was basically a clothes horse with the ability to talk. He couldn't afford to get precious about personal boundaries.

But he understood the concept. It had been explained to him, in detail, when his parents stopped attending shoots with him. Gabriel did not want his son falling prey to things so many young models had been lost to before, and so Adrien had been taught the difference between fitting and feeling, compliments and come-ons. He was told, in no uncertain terms, exactly how much a job was worth, and when to report things to his parents.

Nathalie raised an eyebrow when she learned the answer to both questions, but that was it.

It was not her job to care.

So she had not cared when she heard Adrien's first kiss would be on set.

It had been a simple thing. One of those cutesy 'remember the romantic past' images, but Nathalie remembered it more as an argument. Gabriel had insisted it was fine, but his wife had been up in arms. She'd made arguments about everything from Adrien's rights to child pornography. She'd begged Gabriel to tone it down. "Just a kiss on the cheek! It will still hold the theme!" He had refused.

Adrien had been uncomfortable. Or… nervous, perhaps. Especially when he met the girl on set and she was just as nervous and uncomfortable as him.

Nathalie remembered watching the whole thing, along with twenty other people. They were in an abandoned railway station, the models standing on the overgrown tracks in clothes too thin for the late autumn weather. She'd had a coffee in one hand and her tablet in the other. Gabriel was sitting in the chair beside her, arguing with someone on his phone.

Adrien, with his big green eyes and heart the size of Paris, had taken that little girl's hands in his own and whispered something to her. Nathalie didn't know what he'd said, but it made her smile, just a little. The director had snapped at them – he hated working with kids. Adrien had ignored him, waiting until the little girl nodded.

And then he leaned in and kissed her.

For the next twenty minutes, two children had stood on a freezing cold railway line and learned how to kiss while twenty adults stood around them and barked instructions.

Nathalie was not paid to care. But it had been surreal.

When it became obvious Adrien wouldn't just be photogenic but in fact _attractive_ , it had been decided he needed to expand his skill set. One of Gabriel's adult male models had come over for coffee one day, and spent an afternoon teaching Adrien about bedroom eyes and lustful mouths.

Nathalie, who sat in the next room arranging Adrien's schedule to ensure he could attend the Parisian under-twelves fencing meet, had not been concerned. She did not smile when Gabriel saw the first set of new photographs and decided to fire the project's art director. She did not frown when the only instruction Adrien received was 'mouth shut until you're sixteen'.

It sometimes occurred to her that he would turn sixteen next year.

It was not her business.

Nor was it her business when Gabriel would go on trips to Italy, leaving Adrien in the capable hands of his bodyguard and chef and at the beck and call of Natalie's text messages. She made his schedule particularly busy during those times because Gabriel didn't like the idea of his son having time to get himself in trouble. She did not have to care about what Adrien thought about, alone with people who knew better than to try and have a relationship with their employer's son.

When Gabriel's wife disappeared ( _left_ , a part of her still corrected), Nathalie had been tasked with ensuring Adrien's studies remained on task. Every afternoon required a quiz, where she demanded things his tutor should have been teaching him. She'd resented it at first. She was not a teacher, nor did she have any interest in taking care of a child. She had managed his schedule these past years only because it was easy. She was not his caretaker.

But it became routine. Usually no more than twenty minutes. Adrien excelled in academics, and he knew the value of time. He never wasted hers. His voice rarely faltered, reciting facts and theorems in a bored, breathy tone because putting energy in implied he had to think which in turn implied he didn't know the material which would of course result in further study. If her responses occasionally hinted at approval, or pride, it was only because she appreciated the efficiency. Adrien was her employer's son, and a glorified clothes horse. He could have been as thick as the proverbial brick and it wouldn't have mattered to her.

He _was_ as thick as the proverbial brick sometimes, with no regard for his personal safety, and it didn't bother her. No matter how many times they found him stuck on a roof or building side because he'd tried to climb it only to discover getting up was easier than down, it was only her concern when it interfered with his schedule. When he snuck out of the house to see a movie or spend time with that _boy_ , risking all the safety Gabriel tried to provide, she could only sigh and try to track him down. It was not her place to worry, or understand.

When he enrolled himself in school, snuck out of the house, took the _subway_ to get there, and refused to come back when called…

She took a breath and didn't care, simply discussed the matter with Gabriel. "He appears insistent on this. And with respect, sir, this may be a better outlet for his recent rebellion than some other avenues open to him." She drafted changes to Adrien's schedule not because she approved of his attending school, but rather because she did not want the hassle of dealing with a drug-addled, drunken teenage model with too much time on his hands.

When Gabriel agreed with her assessment and gave his permission, she did not smile. She did not care. She was only protecting her schedule.

Even if it did result in Adrien disappearing more often, and more hectic weekends as they tried to fit a week's worth of modelling and activities into a part-time schedule. She reminded herself of the possible alternatives and _did not care_.

She did raise an eyebrow when his increased socialising led to a sudden and not particularly subtle obsession with cheese. It made a strange kind of sense, in the way many of Adrien's thought processes and decisions did. Prior to his enrolment, almost all of his socialising had been at networking events and adult functions. Of course he would assume that people only spent time together socially with wine and cheese. He no doubt assumed he had to have a supply on hand or seem gauche. And it was probably safer to have cheese in his bag than a bottle of wine, thankfully.

She would have pulled him aside to discuss it, but that, like so many other things, was not her job.

At least he didn't appear to be eating it. She could just imagine how his father and nutritionist would react to such a thing. Which was why she didn't mention it to anyone but the chef, who just shrugged vaguely and agreed to keep it quiet. Nobody wanted to deal with that kind of issue.

She did not care. She did not need to care.

She shut down her computer and picked up her purse, taking a deep breath to begin her routine. She spent so much time at work that going home could feel strange sometimes. But it was late, and she had no reason to stay any longer.

Her hand reached for the front door, but it swung open before she could touch it, shocking her into stillness. On the other side of the door, Adrien stared back at her with wide eyes.

It was almost midnight, and she, along with the rest of the staff, had thought Adrien had been home all evening. Her eyes narrowed and she took another breath, tasting the air around him.

No smoke, no sex, no alcohol. Just sweat, dust, and cheese. He swallowed nervously, eyes darting in all directions but always coming back to her.

She stepped aside. It was not her job to care where he went after hours.

"Um… y- please don't tell my father about this," he said softly, edging around her.

She might. It would depend on whether Gabriel asked. It was her job to tell him what he wanted to know, after all. But she doubted she would volunteer the information.

"Good night, Adrien," she said, and turned to head out.

She made it to the bottom of the stairs before he called out again, and she turned just enough to look at him. Adrien very rarely looked unattractive, but the gentle lights of night time had always given him softness she found aesthetically pleasing. He looked younger. More his age than he usually appeared. More himself.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For everything you've done for me this year. I – I just wanted to say that. Thank you."

She blinked once. She was Gabriel's Executive Assistant, and Adrien's by proxy. It was her job. She wanted a pay cheque, not thanks, and one had already been deposited in her bank account this week. She didn't particularly appreciate Adrien's appreciation, all things considered.

But that was the kind of boy he'd always been, exasperating as it was.

So she just turned and walked out of the courtyard in silence, feeling Adrien's eyes on her back the whole way.

Only once she was out of the gate and no longer Gabriel's assistant did she take another breath and smile. It wasn't her job to care.

* * *

 _Nathalie is a fascinating side character, and while I don't really want more of her, I would be intrigued to see more of her relationship with Adrien. Does she care, or does she just play the part because Gabriel demands it? Questions, questions…_

 _Also, Marinette and Cat Noir show up next._


	5. Marinette: feedCatNoir

_**Consider Cat Noir**_

 **Marinette: #feedCatNoir**

* * *

She first found out about it on the Ladyblog.

"Hashtag feed Cat Noir?" she read out, leaning in close to the screen. "Is one half of the Parisian superhero team on a downward spiral?"

"What are they talking about?" Tikki asked, zipping around to sit on Marinette's shoulder where she could read too.

Apparently, someone had sent a link to Alya about Cat Noir being featured on something called a 'pro-ana' website. In honour of health week, Alya had done an article about it, noting how thin Cat Noir had been in the beginning, and trying to do comparisons to prove he was getting thinner. She said that was probably why he was 'so ineffective' in battle, because his body couldn't keep up with what he was trying to force it to do. It was their job as fans, Alya reported, to support and encourage him on the road to healthy eating.

"I don't think Cat Noir is going to take this well," Tikki said slowly.

He didn't.

"You need to do another interview with that blogger girl!" he snapped at her as she dodged and he belted back lightning-covered basketballs. "Tell her to mind her own business!"

"She didn't come up with it, and would you pay attention?" she demanded. "I'm trying to find his akuma!"

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to maintain an image. She called me scrawny!" he whined.

"That's what bothers you?" she cried. "Everything that article said, and you're worried about being called scrawny?"

"Hey, I'm gorgeous. It was slander."

"She said you were a lousy fighter!"

"Biggest problems first," he said, hitting back no less than four basketballs without looking away from her face. "My ability to get thrashed in a fight has nothing to do with my weight. My weight is the _ideal_. Men spend long hours in gyms trying to look like me."

"If I agree with you will you drop this long enough to let me think?" she snapped, and he huffed but did so, staff twirling as he ran out in front of her and charged.

After they were done and had delivered the victim to the paramedics (it was a kid. A tiny little ten year old kid upset because he'd been knocked off the dodgeball team. She truly despised Hawkmoth sometimes), Cat Noir immediately cornered one of them. "Hey, you're a doctor, right?"

"Not really, no," he said, eyes sweeping over both heroes. "But I can treat any injuries you have."

"Injuries, us? Please," he said. "Can you tell Ladybug I'm not scrawny? From a medical perspective, I mean."

"Cat Noir…" she groaned. "Leave the man alone; he has a job to do."

"This is important. Kids look up to me. If they hear I'm too thin they might try to be too. We have to refute these nebulous claims before they –"

"Before they're proven true?" the paramedic interjected, and Cat Noir blinked hard enough for his ears to bounce. The man frowned at him. "I'm not a doctor, while you're both a superhero and apparently half-cat, so I'm not going to make any judgements about your physiology. But for a normal human, you look really underweight. Sorry."

Cat Noir's mouth worked silently. Ladybug smirked. "Well, this was so informative, but I really have to go. Eat a sandwich, kitty. Bug out!"

But for all her teasing, Marinette did worry a little. Now someone had pointed it out, she had to admit Cat Noir _was_ thin. The cat suit didn't hide much, but she'd been pressed up against him in battle enough to know it was pretty thick with armour in some places. Which meant he was actually thinner than he looked. And you could see his hip bones.

"Maybe he _doesn't_ get enough to eat," she said quietly. "I hope he's okay."

Alya laughed. "He's a _superhero_ , I'm sure he's fine," she said. "But hey, if you're really worried about it, you should get your dad to contribute to the #feedCatNoir bake sale next week!"

"The _what_?" Adrien asked suddenly, turning in his seat to stare at them.

They both stared back. Normally Adrien didn't involve himself in classroom conversations unless Nino dragged him into it. And he actually looked a little angry, which they'd heretofore thought was impossible.

"Hashtag feed Cat Noir?" Alya reminded him. "You must have heard about it. We're trying to raise awareness about healthy eating, and he's become our emblem, since you know, anorexic catboy and everything."

"I'm not –!" Adrien stopped himself, letting out a breath, then looked up at her again. "I'm not any bigger than he is, and you aren't calling me anorexic."

" _She_ isn't," Nino muttered, and Adrien shot him a glare so quick Marinette didn't have time to react to the sight of it before he was again looking at Alya with a thin smile.

"I just don't think it's fair to say something like that about him," he continued. "Especially when he can't defend himself."

"It's not an insult!" Alya laughed. "Besides, it's barely even about him anymore. We're holding a bake sale to raise funds for this charity that helps kids with eating disorders. Honestly we're mostly just capitalising on his name because hello trending!"

Adrien pulled back a little, eyebrow rising and lip twisting. "Then isn't that even more messed up, using his name like that?"

"Please, have you met the guy? He'd be all over free publicity," she said, and Marinette pulled out of her dazed inspection of all these new and unmemorised emotions flashing across Adrien's face to raise an eyebrow. The Cat Noir she knew actually preferred to stay out of the spotlight. But Alya was already moving past it. "Besides, you never know. Maybe he'll show up just to see why his name's plastered over half of Parisian social media. How cool would that be? We'd get so much coverage we'd sell out in seconds!"

Adrien didn't look convinced. Honestly, Marinette wasn't feeling it either. She was worried about her cat, but Alya really was just using his name and this viral teacup storm to further her blog's success. To her, Cat Noir was just Ladybug's partner – a sidekick that got in the way of good shots. She'd even admitted #feedCatNoir had mostly just been a filler article while she waited for real content. It had gone viral because of the scandal, and she was taking advantage of it.

But Marinette was definitely starting to take it seriously. She'd talked it over with Tikki and even she agreed he was thinner than most of the Cat Noirs of the past. Maybe even too thin to fight the way he was supposed to. But even if Ladybug ever had _time_ to talk to him about things like that, he would never listen to her. He'd just make some stupid joke about her 'appreciating' his body.

She blinked, lifting her head from where it rested on her hand. That was something he'd say to Ladybug, but… he wasn't nearly so forward with Marinette. The few times they'd spoken, his flirting had been much more toned down, more playful bragging than anything. If she played it right…

She smiled and settled on a plan.

* * *

Alya hadn't been wrong. The bake sale hadn't even been going for an hour when Cat Noir showed up, dropping down on top of the carousel where no one would look. Marinette had been waiting, which was the only reason she noticed – he was skulking behind the peak, watching the sale with narrowed eyes but clearly in no mood to join the party. So she quietly picked up the basket from behind her table and headed over, smiling when his eyes caught and followed the movement. She winked and beckoned for him to follow her to the other side of the carousel, close to the fence where the crowd wouldn't see.

"Marinette, right?" he asked as he dropped down in front of her.

"That's me! Did you come to find out what all the fuss was about?"

"And have a few words with that blogger girl," he said, folding his arms with a huff. "You're friends with her, right? Tell her that the next time she wants to spread nasty rumours about someone she can at least do it about Hawkmoth."

"I don't think she meant it to be mean," she said gently. "You know it wouldn't have gone viral if people weren't genuinely worried about you."

He paused, then looked away for a moment before coming back to her. "They shouldn't be."

"Well, we are," she said, and raised her eyebrows when he tilted his head.

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, and knelt down so she could open her basket. "You're the one that keeps Ladybug safe, right? You can't do that if you're not fit and healthy."

"I am healthy," he said mutinously, but didn't bother following it up as he watched her unpack bakery boxes. She was almost done when he abruptly dropped into a crouch and leaned over to see better. "What's this?"

"Hashtag feed Cat Noir!" she said playfully. "I decided to go a little more direct."

He flinched back, flummoxed, as she pressed the first box into his chest. When he didn't take it, apparently unable to understand what was happening, she opened it for him, enjoying the way his eyes widened at the quiche inside.

"This is from my dad. He made all of these, actually, but he said to tell you this one was actually from him." Despite herself, and knowing it would only feed his already ridiculous ego, Marinette had to admit, "Between you and me, I think he likes you more than Ladybug."

A surprising blush spread out from under the mask, and Cat Noir blinked rapidly, still gaping at the quiche. "It… I… this…"

"So he'll be very hurt if you don't eat it, you know," she reminded him.

He jerked, eyes flicking up to her before dropping back to the quiche. "It smells delicious. Please tell him I said thank you."

"Not unless I see you eat some of it," she said, holding up a finger. "Otherwise how am I supposed to know you actually like it?"

He blinked several more times before shifting his weight back to fall into a seat. He put the box in his lap and then hesitated, obviously not sure how to go about eating it, even when she held out a fork for him to use. His eyes flicked from her to the quiche and back again.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Don't you want it?"

"No! I… it really does smell… _amazing_ ," he said, breath coming out in a gush before he swallowed and looked up. "It's just… it's a whole pie. It… I – I can't eat all this."

"Sure you can. I've seen the boys at my school eat lunch, I know how much you males can inhale!" she said with a laugh.

It took a second, but he smiled back in a way that she knew she'd never seen before but felt familiar all the same. "Let me rephrase it then. I _shouldn't_ eat all this. Snacks and stuff are one thing, a slice of pie, sure, but… I'm kind of a diet."

She stared. And then kept staring. Her eyes dropped to his all-but-non-existent biceps, and then to the thin chest covered by padded armour, and the pelvic bones she knew were visible when he stood. Then she went back to his face and stared some more. To heck with #feedCatNoir. Next time Ladybug saw him she was putting him in a headlock and shoving pastries down his throat, akuma or no. "You're trying to _lose_ weight?"

"N-no!" he said, and then winced. "Diet's the wrong word. Meal plan? Look, it's all been approved by a medical professional, I swear!"

"A medical quack, more like," she snapped. "Eat the damn pie."

He pulled back a little, and she flinched. That had sounded a lot more like Ladybug than Marinette. Worse, it resulted in a more typical Cat Noir response as he leaned forward, lazy smirk sliding into place. "And who's going to make me, hmm?"

It was his flirting face. And honestly, Ladybug probably would have flirted right back, threatening him with something to earn a dirty grin. But not only was she not Ladybug right now, there were no akuma around to stop them making something of it. So she resorted to different tactics.

"If you don't," she said, and pointed across the street to her house and the bakery below it, "I will go and tell my father you don't like his pie."

Cat Noir's smirk vanished.

"He'll be _devastated_."

He hesitated, looked down at the quiche, and then silently cut out a forkful and stuffed it in his mouth. She watched suspiciously as he chewed, making sure he actually swallowed it, but she didn't need to. He'd barely finished the first mouthful before scooping up another. She smiled triumphantly.

"Good kitty."

He ignored that, only glancing at her as he chewed and swallowed. "This," he announced instead as he cut out another mouthful, "really is good pie. Really."

"Yeah it is," she said proudly, sitting back on her heels. "Papa's the best baker in Paris. You should come by the shop sometime. We'll give you treats every time you save the city."

"Careful princess, you know what they say about feeding stray cats," he warned, waving a forkful of pie at her. "They always come back for more."

She shrugged. "I don't think I'd mind."

He paused with his fork in his mouth, staring at her like she'd announced she was going to become the next queen of England. Then a slow smile began to spread over his face as he slid the empty fork from between his lips and looked down, focussing on the pie. She blushed a little, embarrassed by her own admission, but since he wasn't making a big deal out of it, neither would she.

She put her chin in her hand and fought the urge to ruffle his hair or at least pet his ears.

It might have only been for today, but she was at least a little satisfied to see #feedCatNoir a success.

* * *

 _I feel like this one could be a much longer, angstier story. But Adrien is way too entrenched in his issues and Marinette canonically refuses to see his imperfections, while I don't know enough about the male model industry. So for now, I take advantage of the fact Adrien wears clothes that actually do hide how thin his model is, and present you a fragment._


	6. Plagg: Reluctant affection

_**Consider Adrien**_

 **Plagg: Reluctant affection**

* * *

Despite all his intentions to the contrary, Plagg liked Adrien.

He wanted to hate, or at least remain indifferent to the kid. He'd had too many black cats before and he didn't have the time or energy to invest in another one. Especially not one so… enthusiastic about it all. Even if he had the patience for another heroic type, he knew it wouldn't end well.

It was part and parcel of the gig really, being the yin of the miraculous. Plagg brought destruction, and he was carried by bad luck. He tended to be given to kids with difficult lives. Kids that were angry or depressed long before the bad luck of the cat added to their problems. Then, give them a bit of world-destroying power and nine lives to ruin…

What was that saying about living to see yourself become the villain?

In a lot of ways, Adrien was like every other black cat. He felt unloved and unwanted, stuck in a life he didn't choose. He'd been looking for a way out even before he'd been chosen.

But he was more restricted than most cats. Adrien wasn't able to wander the streets to avoid home. He didn't have the time to get involved in fights or hunt girls. He couldn't even dress himself to avoid or gain attention, because all his clothes were chosen for him. All his time was scheduled. His relationships were cultivated for him. There had been very few choices in Adrien's life.

Before the cat, Adrien had been set on a path, and Plagg sometimes wondered where it would have taken him. For all either of them knew, it was entirely because of the luck and fate of the Miraculous that Adrien was even allowed to go to school. If some other boy had been chosen, would Adrien's father have denied him that freedom? If he had, would there have been some other kind of rebellion? Or would Adrien have given up and gone back to being the perfect son? Grown up, married Chloe, stayed a model because that was all he was good for?

Plagg narrowed his eyes as Adrien threw his remote off to the side and got up, leaving the news on for background noise while he did homework (he had exactly three hours and fourteen minutes to get it all done before he was whisked off to piano, and he'd already wasted sixteen of those minutes watching a report on Ladybug's latest heroics). Adrien was still rebelling against his life with school, friends, and Cat Noir, but he was running himself ragged to do it while still conforming to everything his father wanted. With that kind of evidence in front of him, Plagg had no idea what would have happened without the ring.

If he'd had his way, he wouldn't have cared, either. He just… he just _did_ , for some reason. It made no sense.

Adrien was a nice kid. But that wasn't unusual; nice kids tended to get chosen as the heroes of destruction. Nice kids, determined kids – they were all cut from the same cloth, to keep the power safe. And cats were almost always smart alecks, with a kind of smug humour befitting the feline smirk they all grew to have.

Adrien was a bit soppier than he was used to, maybe. A lot of cats fell hard for the Ladybug (damn pheromones), but it wasn't usually so… well, it had been at least a couple of centuries since he'd last had to listen to poetry, put it that way. And the _pining_. Sure, he preferred pining over having the ring taken off and put in a box for 'alone time', but geez.

"You're a tomcat, aren't you?" Plagg had once pointed out as Adrien sighed happily over the memory of his lady acknowledging his usefulness. "Have some dignity!"

Adrien, smart-mouthed little jerk that he was behind closed doors, just smirked at him. "So, what? You want me to go around tagging stuff and yowling at the moon?"

Remembering the last few Cat Noirs, Plagg had shut up at that point.

Besides, while pining wasn't typical for Cat Noirs, it wasn't really that unusual for a cat. He just didn't follow it up with a proper scowl when Ladybug _did_ look his way. Plagg had pointed out that would probably be more effective – girls loved boys that ignored them. Adrien had rolled his eyes and ignored _him_ for the rest of the afternoon instead.

Failed contrary attitude aside, Plagg had to admit Adrien was a pretty good cat. They'd only been together a few months, which was usually when Cat Noir started exhibiting proper cat-like tendencies, but Adrien's Cat Noir had been flicking his tail from the first transformation.

It was shocking, actually. Even to Plagg, it was surprising how comfortable Adrien was in the suit. He'd crouch and run on all fours as often as not. His ears and tail moved with his emotions, and he felt when they were touched. He purred when petted. He even had the looks down pat! Not just the smirk – that was something all cats could pull off; it was usually half the reason they were chosen. But he had The Look perfected too. The one that told the world, in no uncertain terms, that it had utterly failed to impress him, and he was only tolerating its inadequacies because it amused him. It was a complicated look, one that humans usually couldn't do without an ego the size of France, but this Cat Noir had dished it out within a month, and to his Ladybug, no less!

Every so often, the habits would creep into his life as Adrien. The smirk had begun to appear whenever Adrien made a successful getaway to be Cat Noir for non-akuma-related reasons. He would hum when he was pleased and groan when annoyed. Both noises were moving deeper into his chest as time went on.

But none of that, Plagg reminded himself, was reason to like the boy. He'd had feline cats before.

He floated over to sit on the desk near Adrien's elbow, and got an absent scratch on the head for his trouble. He frowned up at his current cat, slightly annoyed by his own thoughts.

As it happened, Adrien wasn't the nicest or most obedient cat he'd ever had. He talked back, he would refuse to let Plagg eat all his cheese, he gave lectures about respect and courtesy. Plagg didn't mind as much as he said he did – he mostly just wanted to encourage the boy's spine. One day Adrien was going to have to say no to his father, and wouldn't that just be something.

Nor was Adrien his most _compatible_ cat. Jokes aside, Plagg was lazy. He didn't really like heroics; as the kwami of destruction, he felt he wasn't made for it. Personally, he would have been much happier to just hang out all day and eat cheese – let Tikki do all the work. There had been Cat Noirs that agreed with him in the past, when they weren't being influenced by the pheromones. Yes, Ladybug was never as successful without Cat Noir to take the brunt of battle and provide distractions, but there was nothing actually stopping her from saving the day without him.

As he'd told Adrien a dozen times, only to get an annoyed look in return.

"Why would we have these powers if we weren't supposed to use them to help people?" he snapped. "It's our job to protect Ladybug and save the people of Paris!"

And if he'd left it at that, Plagg could probably have accepted it. Cat Noir loved Ladybug, and couldn't help helping her. Same old story, slightly different characters. But that wasn't it! Not for Adrien! Adrien wasn't content with fighting akuma and helping his beloved Ladybug. He wanted to save the whole world! He went on _patrols_! Even when nothing was going on, he'd transform and wander the streets at night, stopping petty muggings and making sure girls got home safe.

Any other Cat Noir, Plagg could have explained it away with the cat's need to prowl, but he knew Adrien better than that.

"Don't you think you have enough to do without this?" Plagg had asked one night, as Adrien fished another wheel of camembert out of his bar fridge. "Modelling, music, Chinese, fencing, school? Most kids your age only just manage one of those, and you want to add onto it with a night time stroll three times a week?"

"What can I say? I'd get bored if I didn't have too much on my plate," he said, tossing the cheese over. "And you missed out spending time with Nino. That's a priority too."

"Ughhh, you make me so tired! You should sleep more."

"Maybe later. I have a physics test tomorrow. Eat up and sleep for me, okay?"

Honestly, Plagg didn't know how he did it, and he was with the kid twenty-four hours a day. Sure, there were some weekends that he just crashed and slept for sixteen hours straight, but then he'd be right back to his crazy schedule like it was no big deal.

Plagg turned his eye on the room around them, considering the trophies, books, movies, and games. If you asked, Adrien would absolutely tell you he enjoyed everything he did. He'd even tell you he didn't hate the modelling – that it was a job and he liked earning his own money, even if he didn't get to spend it or choose what he worked on.

That was what he _said_. Plagg was pretty sure even Adrien didn't know what he actually thought. Plagg was pretty sure Adrien avoided having thoughts like that. Mostly, everything he did made his father happy, and that was enough.

"If you're so worried about what your father thinks, what do you think he'd say if he knew about Cat Noir, hmm?" Plagg had asked once, swimming backstroke through the air as Adrien scrubbed and rescrubbed his face with cleansing lotion. He'd gotten a pimple and it was causing a minor breakdown. "Risking your life for Paris?"

"He would lose his mind," Adrien said bluntly. "Then he'd probably take away my Miraculous and lock me up in a bullet proof box."

"Hmm…" Plagg swam around in front of him. "Would you give it up if he told you to?"

There was a pause, but it wasn't because Adrien had to think – he was washing his face again and the cream threatened to get in his mouth if he spoke. When he did look up, it was with a determined smirk. "Not a chance."

Plagg wondered about that.

Adrien barely thought about following directions. Whether he was himself or Cat Noir, he almost never argued, unless someone else was being affected, and even then he could only put up a token resistance. It worked well with Ladybug – he trusted her judgement, and a battle couple couldn't afford to hesitate. But it was a little less healthy when Chloe shoved homework into Cat Noir's chest and told him to do it for her. Photographers adored him for his ability to learn and take direction, but when Adrien sat up late the night of his birthday, rocking back and forth as he debated whether he should stay friends with Nino…

"He's a bad influence," he whispered when Plagg settled on his knee. "Because he looked out for me, he became the Bubbler. And I didn't do anything. I turned him into that akuma and then I didn't fix it. It's my fault. I shouldn't be friends with him anymore."

Plagg wasn't good with emotions. But he tried to be there, and he was relieved when Nino hadn't blamed Adrien for any of it. Gabriel disapproved, but he hadn't actually told Adrien to stay away from him, while Nino had _told_ him they would still be friends. It was a direction. An order. Adrien was very good at doing what he was told.

Apparently bored by the research he was doing, Adrien scratched Plagg again, smiling when it garnered an unconscious grumble of pleasure. He scooped Plagg up in both hands and sat back in his chair, bringing him in close to his chest and then shifting to pet his head with his thumb. "What's on your mind, Plagg?"

"Cheese," he answered immediately, and Adrien rolled his eyes with a scoff. He didn't believe him, but he didn't press, either. For someone so invested in being Cat Noir, he rarely demanded answers of his kwami. Just like he never asked anything of his father or Nathalie, or even questioned his friends at school. He took what he got and was grateful.

"Any particular kind of cheese? You know there are lots out there, not just camembert. Swiss, blue vein, cheddar…" His smile broadened. "Abbaye du mont des Cats, perhaps?"

"Ahh, too high maintenance," he said, and Adrien laughed again.

"Says the fan of runny camembert! But on the topic, is there any chance I can convince you to take a liking to Babyel? The wax will hide the smell a whole lot better."

"You would give me something so common? An _off the shelf_ product?"

"Ah, hipster kwami shows his true colours. What, did you think our chef made all your cheese himself?" he teased, and then closed his eyes, rolling his head back against his chair. "But as you like. Camembert it is."

Plagg gazed up at his cat with slow blinks. Moments like this, he could pretend the wave of fondness threatening to overwhelm him was about cheese. But he knew he was lying. Knew one day Tikki would call him out on it and it would become a Thing. Knew one day he would lose his cat to the ladybug, one way or another, and it would hurt.

It always hurt.

But for now, he closed his eyes and leaned into Adrien's gentle petting, curling close to the warmth of his chest.

He liked this one.

* * *

 _The look Plagg describes is my favourite of Adrien's multitude of great expressions, and it mostly only shows up when both a Lucky Charm is particularly stupid and he's in proper frame, close enough to comment. So, like, twice in the whole series. Also, Plagg is my favourite character and it absolutely pains me we don't see more of him._


	7. Theo: not a friend

_**Consider Adrien**_

 **Not a friend: Green eyes and messy hair**

* * *

Another late night in the studio, carving another masterpiece of failure. Theo pulled back from his latest creation to look it over with a critical eye. He'd carved her fringe too short; there would be no fixing it. Six hours wasted!

He sighed and knocked it off the pedestal without caring where it went, but there was no resulting crash. He frowned, turning his head to look, only to shriek and fall back at what he found.

Cat Noir, crouched less than a foot away from his stool with the failed bust in his hands, quirked an eyebrow at him. "I know I'm shockingly attractive, and no one could blame you for screaming over it, but weren't you in love with my partner?" he asked dryly. "I've heard of spurning someone's face before but this is ridiculous."

"How long – where – how –" Theo grabbed at his thumping heart, staring wildly. "What are you… what are you doing here?"

"A couple of different things," he said, as if he wasn't a superhero that had apparently just teleported into Theo's studio without warning to scare him half to death. He carefully set the bust aside, then peeked at him sideways. "Are you okay?"

"You scared the life out of me," he snapped. "How long have you been here for? How'd you get in?"

"Less than a minute, and through the window. You should really lock those things," he said, pointing over his shoulder to the windows high overhead. Sure enough, one of them was cracked just enough for Cat Noir's lithe frame. Which was, Theo noted with an artist's eye, both thinner and taller than he'd previously thought and sculpted. He scowled at the reminder of his failings as a sculptor, but said nothing, just got to his feet and brushed himself off. Cat Noir tilted his head curiously. "You seem stressed."

"Stressed is not the word for it," he said. "I'm just not used to obnoxious superheroes randomly showing up in my studio without warning!"

"Are you used to non-obnoxious superheroes showing up in your studio without warning?" he asked with a cheeky grin. "I didn't think that was how Ladybug spent her free time, but you did clarify, so…?"

He glared at him. "What do you want?"

Cat Noir just continued smiling at him for a moment, then abruptly pushed himself upright and set his hands on his hips. "I lied to you. Sorry about that."

"What?"

He shrugged carelessly. "Ladybug and I are not, have never been, and sadly, likely never will be 'a thing'," he said, his eyes drifting off to the side before returning to him, a crooked smile on his lips. "Partners, yes… in a sense. But not romantic. However, jealousy is something of a personal flaw of mine. And so I lied, thinking that would scare you off. I wish I could say I didn't mean to hurt you, but I did. But I am sorry."

Theo stared at him for a few moments, not entirely sure how to take the whole thing. He didn't remember a lot of his time as Copycat, but he did remember Cat Noir being a smug jerk at the presentation ceremony. It was what had made Theo vulnerable to Hawkmoth. And despite the apology, Cat Noir still looked arrogant and amused, like the whole thing was just a stupid joke. So why even bother apologising? Why bother –

Theo pulled his head back with narrowed eyes, taking another, longer look at the superhero.

God, what was he, _fourteen_?

How had Theo not known Cat Noir was a _kid_?

How long had he stared at, carved, moulded that face? How had he not… it… He turned away with a breathless huff, disgusted with himself. Not only had he not noticed Cat Noir was a child, but he'd actually been _jealous_! Jealous of a… and this! This apology, implying the whole thing had been – been what? The impulsive, pig-headed claim of an insecure fourteen year old? And now said fourteen year old was fronting up to apologise for it, when Theo himself could barely…!

Ugh, he was not doing well this week.

He sighed heavily, running a hand over his hair. "Apology accepted. I'd apologise for framing you for stealing the Mona Lisa, but –"

"You have nothing to apologise for," Cat Noir interrupted, ducking around to see his face again. "That was all Hawkmoth."

Theo glanced at him, then rolled his eyes. He didn't need this from a _kid_. "Don't be naive."

"Pardon?"

Theo shook his head, heading over to his desk. "I might not remember being Copycat, but I know how the akuma work. They don't control our minds, they make us into… They take our darkest thoughts and feelings and make them real. When we're akumatised, we become the villains we would be if only we had the chance," he said, clenching his fists in front of himself. "Hawkmoth makes it happen, but why shouldn't we be blamed for the things we did as supervillains? It was still me."

"And here I thought it was just a stereotype that artists were melodramatic," he said dryly. Theo went to scowl at him, but Cat Noir wasn't looking at him anymore. He had kept silent pace behind him, and was inspecting the sketches spread across the desk, claws lightly skating over the soft lines and smudged edges. "You made our statue because you like Ladybug, right? You wanted to sculpt her, so you put forward your proposal and design and went for it."

He furrowed his brow, confused by the change in subject. "Yes…?"

"You didn't want to sculpt me."

Theo flinched. Cat Noir was smirking at him from under his hair, like it didn't matter, but it still felt like something Theo should be ashamed of. "I… I didn't…"

"You would have preferred not to sculpt me, but you did it anyway," Cat Noir reminded him, lowering his eyes back to the sketches. "I bet a bunch of artists submitted designs that just had Ladybug, or put her more central, but you read the brief and you designed a statue that worked for us both. That's why you were picked, and why your statue's in the park, not theirs."

"I…" He hesitated, but Cat Noir wasn't finished and overrode him anyway.

"I'm not saying you _hated_ doing it. You're an artist, you enjoy creating. But," He paused, tilting his head to look at one of the pictures sideways. "If you'd had your choice, you would have left me out."

Theo stared at him silently, refusing to admit to what he knew was true. In response to that, Cat Noir just sucked in a deep breath and straightened up, raising his arms up over his head in a stretch. "The thing is," he said, voice strangled with the movement before he let his arms drop like lead weights, "we all do things we don't mind doing. But it's not really a matter of _choice_. And at the end of the day, it's our choices that decide who we are. Not what we do, not what we say, but what we choose."

"You don't think that's the same thing?" he asked, and Cat Noir shook his head.

"I have to believe it isn't," he said, and for a moment, he caught Theo's gaze in those too-green eyes. "That's why I needed to apologise. It might have been a stupid thing, getting jealous and saying what I did, but it was something I chose to do. No Hawkmoth screwing with my head, no lines I was reciting, no reason other than I was an idiot. And it was wrong. _I_ was wrong. And I'm sorry."

Theo stared at him silently. As an akuma victim, he was inclined to think Cat Noir 'had to believe' on behalf of the victims – that the people the superhero fought and saved alongside Ladybug couldn't be to blame because otherwise letting them go raised all sorts of ethical concerns. But as an artist, he noticed the way Cat Noir had brought it back to his own mistake. His own choices. Cat Noir was so arrogant, carefree and impulsive… what did he do that _wasn't_ his choice?

But… the thought process itself was strange too. He could kind of understand what Cat Noir was trying to say… something about the difference between what you would do versus what you wanted to do, and probably something about free will and thin lines, but he was coming at it from a very strange angle. Like how addicts could justify their actions in a way that made sense until you actually tried to follow their logic alone.

Maybe it made more sense when you had superpowers.

In the end, Theo said nothing, just moved around the desk to sit in his chair. Cat Noir kept watching him for a few seconds, and then refocussed on the sketches. Not really sure how to continue the conversation, Theo waited a couple of seconds before asking, "You like art?"

"Not especially," he admitted. "But I appreciate talent, and you can always tell when someone's doing what they love. The fact that these sketches are all of Ladybug certainly helps my interest," he added with a dirty grin.

"I've been given a few commissions, following the statue," he said in slightly defensive explanation. "Rich people that want a little bit of her in their gardens."

"Sure, sure, I get that," he said playfully. "Doesn't hurt that she's strong, kind, beautiful, amazing…"

Theo raised an eyebrow. He was pretty sure Cat Noir was trying to tease him, but he was mostly coming off as love-sick. "Orders are still open if you want a statue of your own."

"Ooh, tempting," he said. "But I think our little love triangle here is messed up enough without us helping each other pine. Hey, do you have the time?"

He blinked, startled again by the sudden change in subject. He glanced at his watch and told him, surprised to see Cat Noir grimace and roll his shoulders.

"I need to get going. I didn't intend to stay long," he said, pulling his hand away from the papers. "Before I go, however, there is one more thing I need to say."

Theo waited, but after a minute it became obvious Cat Noir was expecting another prompt. He rolled his eyes at the dramatics. "Yes?"

He hesitated another second, then asked, "Are you okay?"

"What?"

He sighed, setting his hands on his hips and glancing down at the floor again. "I was going to tell you it wasn't your fault, but I realised that's kind of what we were talking about before I got all self-absorbed," he said, before returning those strange eyes to Theo's own. "So I'll make it simpler. Are you okay with… everything?"

He stared at him blankly for a few seconds. This had been a very strange encounter, and honestly Theo wasn't sure what to make of it. Cat Noir confused him. In a lot of ways, he was so utterly human – just a teenage boy, dealing with things the same way all teenage boys did: bluster and jokes, because that hid the fear. But at the same time, he was a superhero, with the power of destruction literally in the palm of his hand. So much potential for damage, and the worst he'd done was make a few stupid comments about a girl. And even that had brought him here, less than three days later, to apologise.

The artist in Theo instantly warmed to the dichotomy, and nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks for checking in, kid."

That actually made the cat blanch, before he grinned and leaned forward from the hips. "You know, I can't say for certain, but I'm pretty sure my lady is the same age as me, so if I'm a kid and you're crushing on her…?"

Theo twitched, and Cat Noir snickered before sliding away.

"But it's good to hear. Until next time, Mr Artist," he said, and started jogging back toward the window.

"You know there's a door," Theo called after him, but Cat Noir just tossed a grin over his shoulder and leapt up into the rafters before launching himself through the window in a single movement.

Theo stared at the empty window for a long time. When he looked down again, his gaze drifted over the paper and sketches in front of him, at the girl he'd watched and idolised. An image. Two dimensional and static.

He pulled a blank sheet before him and picked up a pen. It was green, he realised after putting it to paper. Appropriate.

He started with the eyes.

* * *

 _Ah, Theo. Working like six jobs, randomly appearing in the boys' bathroom at a middle school, going on walks with the KidsPlus weather girl that I assumed was like thirteen… I can justify all of it with headcanons, but not right now._

 _This could also be expanded into a longer story (or two, actually), but probably won't be. So… Theo. This is the last of these for now, as I have no more written. We'll see how it goes/if it will continue. Please let me know what you thought!_


End file.
